


With God alone

by Alyss_asleep



Series: We are alight [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Accidents, Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Angst, Brothers, Declan Lynch is a protective older brother, Declan Lynch is bad at feelings, Declan loves his idiot brother, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Injury, M/M, POV Declan Lynch, Recovery, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch loves his animals, Swearing because Lynch brothers, soft boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 14:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17562242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyss_asleep/pseuds/Alyss_asleep
Summary: Ronan has an accident while Adam is out of town. Declan Lynch to the rescue?





	With God alone

Declan tried to force his hand to relax around the steering wheel. He could feel his brother’s penetrating gaze slicing through him, laying his tells bare. It was only a matter of time before his actions started to betray feelings. It had been a long time since the awkward gulf currently separating them had been so palpable, since he had felt so awkward in Ronan’s presence.

Ronan looked so colourless. He always favoured a monochromatic aesthetic, black ink, black clothes, black car, and he was a Lynch, so pale was the default setting. Usually the stark contrast between his clothing and skin cast an unearthly, luminescence about him. Today he just looked sick. The red rimming his eyes and gauze dressings covering one side of his face and neck didn’t help much.

Declan couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking sideways to assess Ronan at every opportunity. He knew his brother hated this, he could feel waves of irritation and disquiet rolling off him like an electric current. The whole car and it’s inhabitants charged with tension.

“Stop fucking staring”, Ronan growled, scowl prominent and eyes cold. Declan focused back on the road, breathing deeply. Stay calm he ordered himself.

Neither of them were so willing to fight anymore. The thin tightrope that they had both walked, constantly on the precipice of anger, had stretched into a wider path with more solid footing. But, the events of the last few days had stretched Ronan’s patience way past it’s usual limits. He was raw and aching and Declan had always been his favourite target. This didn’t mean Declan was going to make it easy for him. He loved his little brother, deeply, painfully and irrevocably, but that didn’t mean he was willing to accept the role of punch bag.

“Don’t be a shit,” he replied, voice still calm. “I’m as fucking tired as you are and I didn’t get any drugs to make being in the hospital more appealing.” Ronan snorted and turned to look out of the window.

********************************

Declan has received the call in the middle of a dinner meeting. He’d been pushing for the networking opportunity for weeks so, initially, he’d ignored Ronan’s number flashing on his screen. But, his brother never called, he barely even acquiesced to answer incoming calls. It had unsettled him enough to politely excuse himself from the conversation and dial Ronan’s number. 

To his surprise, Opal had answered, voice frantic and words garbled into a torrent of English, Latin and dream language that made little sense to anyone but Ronan. She hadn’t jumbled her her words like that for years and something about it set Declan instantly on edge. It had taken an unbearable stretch of time for him to understand what she was trying to say but, eventually, the words “Kerrah needs help, he’s all red and there is fire,” broke through the babble.

Declan’s stomach had dropped through the floor and his pulse had rushed in his ears, drumming so loud that it was almost painful. Ever practical, he’d instructed Opal to hide; a little girl with hooves was a complication that they really didn’t need right now, before quickly hanging up and calling 911. 

Ronan was already at the hospital by the time he entered the state. With the Fox Way witches dispatched to collect his less-than-human niece, he’d driven at break neck speed to get to his little brother.

The breath had gotten stuck in his lungs when he first saw him. Surrounded, by nurses and hooked up to a Morphine drip, he was naked from the waist up exposing angry, red and blistered skin up the left side of his torso, neck and face. 

Ronan didn’t seem aware of Declan’s presence and he was grateful for the time to try and compose himself. He didn’t remember ever seeing his brother looking so helpless; defences decimated by pain. There were tears running down his face and he babbled senselessly, crying out occasionally while the medical staff treated the burns. 

One of the nurses had noticed him hovering in the doorway and directed him to a chair in the waiting room until they’d finished applying the dressings. It was an hour at the most until someone came to get him but it felt like a life time. His blood itched beneath his skin and he burned with inactivity. The inability to do anything to help cut deep and left him feeling raw and vulnerable.

“Are you the brother”, the nurse had asked kindly. Declan extended his hand, manners in- built and automatic even in his distress. “Declan Lynch ma’am”, he’d answered swiftly. “What happened to my brother? How badly is he hurt”. 

The nurse explained that it appeared that there has been a fire in one of the barns. The response team suspected that Ronan had run in to rescue the goats, and had received second degree burns and smoke inhalation in the process. 

Fucking typical, risking his life for a stinking animal! Declan would never understand Ronan’s devotion to his menagerie.

“He’s a lucky young man”, the nurse had finished gruffly, “it could have been much worse.” Declan sucked in a sharp breath and tried to chase away the images that had been plaguing him since he received Opal’s call. She smiled and laid a gloved hand against his shoulder. “He’s going to be very uncomfortable for a few weeks and will need a considerable amount of after care, but your brother should be fine. We need to keep him in for a few days to keep an eye on the worst of the burns and to monitor his breathing but he should heal with minimal scarring, eventually.”

Declan was flooded with relief and frustration. He couldn’t wait for Ronan to get better so he could kick his stupid, stubborn, animal-loving ass.

“You can come and see him now,” the nurse had said, leading Declan back towards the ward. “I should warn you that he’s been mumbling a lot. The drugs can cause a lot of confusion and disorientation”. Declan had just nodded and braced himself.

Ronan was still hooked up to tubes and monitors but a crisp, white sheet had been pulled across his chest and the angry patches of flesh on his face and neck were hidden behind dressings. “Hey asshole,” he said softly and dropped into the plastic chair beside the bed. Ronan didn’t reply and Declan settled in to watch over his brother and attempt to process the emotions swirling around his head. The tension and fear had left him drained and exhausted. A numbness taking over after any immediate danger had cleared.

Declan realised that he’d been staring at a chip in the cream paint on the wall behind Ronan’s bed for almost half an hour. He had been only been startled back to reality by Ronan’s voice. “Where’s Adam”, He drawled.  
“Want Adam. Please. Want Adam”. His words petered out into an incoherent mumble and a nurse bustled into the room to check the monitors. 

“He was talking just now,” Declan reported while she fiddled with the display. “That’s normal honey”, the nurse had replied and leant over Ronan to assess the dressing. “Where’s Adam,” Ronan mumbled again.  
“What was that sweetie”, the nurse asked, watching Ronan closely for signs of coherency. He only mumbled in response.

“He’s asking for his boyfriend”, Declan explained. “Uh, fiancé technically, but he is in Europe with work. I haven’t even called him yet”.

********************************

That has been one of the hardest and most awkward conversations of Declan’s life. Adam had been cold and demanding, desperate to know what was happening and frustrated by the distance keeping him away. He’d shouted for a solid ten minutes about Declan not calling him straight away but had then broken down in noisy and violent sobs. Declan had never been good at comforting people, especially reliant solely on words; he’d never felt so painfully encumbered by his emotional failings.

********************************

“Adam should be there when we get home,” Declan offered, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the car. “He text me”, Ronan mumbled, frown deepening and fingers beginning to pull at the frayed edges of the artfully ripped holes in his jeans.

Declan was bewildered by Ronan’s discomfort. He had asked for Adam repeatedly until the drugs had worn off, and though he had been quieter and more on edge than normal, he hadn’t seemed worryingly out of character.

“You don’t want to see him?”  
Declan asked gently, driven to ask the question despite his discomfort at discussing feelings.  
“Of course I want to fucking see him”, Ronan snarled, looking at Declan like he was an idiot.  
“What the fuck is your problem then?” Declan couldn’t stop himself from snapping back.  
Ronan shrugged and turned away from him.

“Come on man”, Declan coaxed. “I don’t want to talk about emotional stuff any more than you do, trust me, but we are going to be back in ten minutes and I need to know what the hell is going on with you.”  
Ronan sighed and stared resolutely out of the window. Declan thought he was going to refuse to answer and was floored when Ronan quietly whispered, “I look like a war zone reject”. 

“You walked into a burning building Ronan, for a fucking goat, what do you expect”. Declan didn’t mean to be cruel, just realistic.

“Fuck you,” Ronan snarled, defences snapping back into place and barbs thrusting outward.

“I didn’t mean...” Declan trailed off and tried again. “You guys have been through way worse than this. For fucks sake, you nearly died when you were teenagers”. Ronan remained silent, knuckles white as his hands balled into tight fists. “Fucking talk to me or I’m going to pull over”, Declan growled, patience at its limit. He didn’t really want to have this conversation now, or ever, but he knew his little brother would let it eat him up. “Spit it the fuck out already”.

Ronan sighed deeply and fixed his eyes down, away from Declan’s gaze. “I’m not sure I want Adam to see me like this” he gestured to his bandages. Declan did not fucking understand his brother. He never had and doubted he ever would.  
“Why the fuck not? Who else do you think wants to take care of your moody ass?”  
Ronan blushed and refused to look at him. “I look... not great... pretty shitty with the bandage off”, he admitted gruff and hesitant. “It’s not like it fucking matters what I look like or anything”, He back-pedalled quickly, “but like, maybe it does to Adam”.

“You think you’re boyfriend, of five years, is going to dump your sorry ass because your face isn’t pretty for a few weeks?” Ronan grunted noncommittally. “I know you’re a Lynch, and we’ve got some damn good genes, but you’re a fucking asshole man. There’s no way Adam would put up with that shit just because he likes your face.

Ronan snorted and finally turned to look at him. “You’re saying my personality is shit and I look like road kill?!” Declan hummed. “Don’t ask me bro, I never fucking got what he saw in you in the first place”. Ronan barked a quick laugh and Declan felt a flash of pride at the small victory. He would never admit it out loud, but he loved his brother’s laugh. A sullen Ronan was a trying and infuriating thing, but the happy, joking version was magnetic. He’d gone for years without seeing Ronan smile and it wasn’t something he was willing to give up now that it had become a more regular occurrence.

“You spent the entirety of your teenage years tying to make yourself look like a hoodlum that shopped in a trash can.” Declan shook his head in exasperation. “It’s not like you’re a hell of a lot better now, but he’s fucking in love with you. It’s sickening. You flaunt it at every family meal, especially since you put that tragic ring on his finger. It’s revolting”. Ronan’s smile quirked into a soft grin at that. He reached out and punched Declan in the leg. “Adam loves that ring man,” he murmured.  
“Yeah and it’s ugly as fuck, so you clearly don’t have anything to worry about”.  
Ronan laughed again but lapsed in to silence as they approached The Barns.

Declan felt bile rise in his throat as they passed the charred remains of the burnt out barn. He had to fight the urge to throw up thinking about Ronan stumbling around inside it. Fuck, if anything had happened to him... Declan’s nails bit into his palm hard enough to draw blood. 

God, it must be weird for Ronan to see this, he thought, turning to assess his expression. Ronan, however, wasn’t looking at the barn. His gaze was locked on a car parked at the end of the long drive, a clear indicator that Adam was here and waiting.

As they pulled closer the front door flung open and Adam was there, feet stumbling as he rushed down the steps and raced toward the car. “I’ll wait here”, Declan told Ronan, he hoped reassuringly, and watched as Ronan pushed himself out of the car and stepped towards his boyfriend.

He couldn’t really hear what they were saying from this vantage point. He watched, embarrassed, but unable to look away, as Adam wrapped his long arms around Ronan’s damaged body and pulled him close. They didn’t kiss but Adam’s face came to rest against Ronan’s, one hand cradling the unblemished side of his face and the other caressing the back of his head. They stared at one another for a few long moments. 

He watched Ronan’s lips as he spoke a few quick sentences. Words that caused Adam to throw his arms violently into the air, gesticulating wildly, voice rising so that Declan could hear odd words. “Jesus Christ.... stupid....fucking idiot.... reckless..... goat.... love you..... stupid fucker.” And then Adam was pulling Ronan close again and pressing soft  
kisses all over his blushing face, bandages and all.

Declan felt his heart wrench. He shared some traits with his brother, but they were not alike. He didn’t have the capacity to love or be loved like Ronan; open, vulnerable and all encompassing. Ronan loved like he lived, violently, recklessly and full of fear but barrelling ahead anyway. Declan could never relinquish the careful control, that he applied to all areas of his life, enough to let anyone that close. Part of him was envious and ached as he watched Adam welcome Ronan with a love and affection so genuine that it hurt Declan to see. It’s a weakness he told himself, it will hold them back in the long run. He knew he was lying to himself, but his career and the girls he charmed into his bed were a balm that he was all too willing to apply. Measures to maintain distance and control over his life.

He honked the horn before climbing out of the car. “Stop fucking slobbering all over each other,” he called feigning disgust. “Ro’s got to keep those dressings dry”. Adam rolled his eyes but pulled away from Ronan to tow him towards the house. Declan followed, smiling slightly as he watched Adam’s fingers lace through Ronan’s, thumb tracing circles on the back of his hands. 

“I love you so much baby,” he heard Adam say softly as he walked away from them and towards his room. “It’s so fucking good to see you”. He quickened his pace when he heard loud, slurpy kissing noises behind him. He was still in ear shot to hear Ronan respond. “Even when I look like I had a fight with a flame thrower?” Declan paused to catch Adam’s response, protective instincts flaring. He didn’t care if Adam was a good guy, he’d kick his fucking ass if he upset Ronan right now.  
“Well I can only see the bandages”, Adam started objectively, and Declan’s right hand readied itself into a fist, “but you’re still sexy as fuck and I’ve not seen you for two weeks and I really, really want to blow you right now. I’m not sure if that’s appropriate and you probably just want to rest...”  
“Like fuck I want to rest”, Ronan interrupted, “Let’s go!”

Declan hurried the rest of the way to his room and slammed the door. He knew he should feel guilty for eves-dropping, but if he was being honest, he would stop at nothing to protect his family.

Thank god he still had an old stereo on the bedside table. He turned the volume as loud as it would go and fell back onto his childhood bed. He could rest now. Ronan was being taken care of, though perhaps not in a way that Declan fully understood, and he was finally alone. Only in his solitude could he let himself collapse; a secret shared with God, and God alone. Tears rolled wet and hot down his cheeks. Pent up fear, exhaustion and relief finally finding release.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sure Ronan would be super soft for his farm animals.


End file.
